


Here comes the Big Bad Wolf

by kuro49



Series: thirty days of writing [24]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4694945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with the taste of a single grape, it ends with Napoleon Solo with his head between her legs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here comes the Big Bad Wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reeei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeei/gifts).



> written for the prompt: _each time we climb the stairs, something changes._
> 
> thannnnk youuu liiiiiing for the inspiration, i doubt i would've wrote the two of them if you didn't ask for these two.
> 
> *edit: thanks Meryl for reminding me of my glaring mistake!! /covers face in sham

For once, Napoleon Solo is not lying when he admits to giving it his all.

The scratches up and down his back is evidence enough. She draws blood with not just her nails but the metal jewellery she insists on wearing to the bed too. To say she is just a lethal combination of beauty, brains, and ambition feel a little like an understatement when he is faced with her like this.

Victoria Vinciguerra is more than just a woman of a certain calibre, that's for damn sure.

With her in his room, the two of them are all alone (maybe not entirely alone in the sense that her goons are still in the hallway and god knows how many listening device Peril has hidden in the vicinity). The end of the world isn’t looking like just a simple plan waiting to be put into action.

It is looking like the very meaning of the world map can be rearranged at her hands alone.

Her smile settles nothing, not the beat of his heart from running up flights after flights of stairs to his room or the rush of blood he feels as she drags her gaze across his body. He isn’t naked and Napoleon hasn’t been a self conscious man in a long time now, but god, does he feel like she can see more than her fill.

When she kisses him, her lipstick barely smears but it does track across his jaw and neck. There is a pause, her teeth a breath from his pulse, there is a soft hum she lets out from her lips.

“More swamp than soap, Mr. Devoney?”

And she is not glancing up at him when she is catching his eye at the same height.

“Natural musk.” He tells her with a smile tighter than the self confident man he lives his life as is used to presenting. She doesn’t say anything to that, just drags her hands down the front of his bathrobe to rest at the knot.

It starts with the taste of a single grape.

It ends with Napoleon Solo with his head between her legs, Victoria Vinciguerra with her hand a fist in his hair. Pulling, hard, like he can ever expect any less.

“Don’t damage the goods.” He murmurs, his mouth leaving his share of love bites further up the inside of her thighs.

Victoria might be breathing a little harder but it is hardly something to be screaming into the pillows for and she tells him just that, her lips curving into the bite marks she will be leaving over his shoulders. “I think I’ve yet to decide whether you’re really as good you keep saying you are, Mr. Devoney.”

He doesn’t take it as the threat she intends it to be. She figures she will have another chance at that come morning. After all, she never does like to leave anything to chance.

Still, it is a good night.


End file.
